Chasing Phantoms
by Zothar
Summary: The NCIS team responds to a dead marine, and the only immediate lead is a picture of a man. When said man stumbles onto the crime scene, things get interesting. No pairings, set during Supremacy/Ultimatum (before he calls Landy in both films).
1. The Call

It had started like any other call…

"Let's go, we've got a dead marine. Grab your gear."

The group jumped up as Leroy Jethro Gibbs powerwalked through, giving himself just enough time to slap Tony DiNozzo upside the head. The younger "Very Special Agent" immediately shoved the magazine he had found into his desk drawer and grabbed his backpack and hat. Ziva David and Tim McGee smirked and followed suite, jogging to keep up with their team leader.

They reached the crime scene without much talking or fanfare, each taking up their respective duties as Gibbs surveyed from afar. The marine in question was lying in a drainage ditch beside the road, his hands bound behind his back with barbed wire. Ziva photographed all that she could find as Tony sketched the scene.

"Any witnesses, Boss?" Tony asked, glancing towards the older man.

Gibbs shook his head. "As soon as Ducky gets here and figures out a time of death, we'll see about any cameras in the area."

As if on cue, NCIS's M.E. van pulled into the spot beside Gibbs' vehicle. Doctor Mallard and Jimmy Palmer jumped out, grabbing what equipment they needed before heading straight for the dead body.

"I told you, Mister Palmer, that we should have taken a _left_ on Lincoln, not a right," Ducky complained to his assistant.

"We couldn't take a left, Doctor Mallard. It is closed two blocks down for construction. I had to detour to the right." Jimmy panted as he tried to keep up with his superior.

"The construction on that road has been finished for nearly a week now, Mister Palmer. Perhaps you should check the traffic conditions more often than your Facebook page. Ah, Jethro, I apologize for the tardiness," he said, turning to face Gibbs.

Gibbs shrugged off the apology. "Time of death?"

"Well, give me a few minutes and I should have that for you. Mister Palmer, the bag, if you would be so kind." The medical examiner said as he stepped forward to examine the body. Tony and Ziva backed away to give them room to work.

"I'm telling you, Zi, the hands are tied just like…"

"Please do not reference another one of your movies, Tony." Ziva rolled her eyes, and shot a glare at her coworker. "I have heard enough of them for today. You are beating a dead cow."

"Horse," Tony corrected absently. "And I wasn't going to say a movie. You act as if that is all I can talk about or something."

"Huh, perhaps because that's how it seems to be sometimes," she snapped, turning to replace the batteries in her camera.

"Easy there, tiger. What's got you in such a huff?" Tony asked, hands raised in mock surrender. The hint of concern in his voice, however, was real enough.

Ziva sighed, staring straight ahead. "It is nothing important, just troubles with the landlord of my apartment is all," she said, rubbing her temple with her right hand.

Tony nodded. "Ah, the old landlord problems. Let me guess, he forgot to turn on your hot water again? No, wait. You're electricity bill came back doubled? Or your neighbors complain too much when you bring company over?" The last comment earned him a smack in the arm.

"Well you wouldn't really know much about that, would you, Tony?" quipped McGee. He had heard the majority of the conversation and couldn't resist poking a bit of fun at the senior field agent.

"Shut it, McProbie. I doubt you've had very many gamer-girls over yourself."

Gibbs ignored the bickering of his team, still looking over the body. A small bit of paper was sticking out of the man's pocket, catching his eye. As he carefully removed it, Ziva walked over holding the camera.

"A picture. Do you know the man, Gibbs?"

Gibbs stared at the picture, trying to pinpoint the tickling at the back of his mind. There was something familiar about the face that he couldn't place. "Nope," he finally answered, allowing her to photograph the evidence.

Tony glanced at the photograph. "Huh. What do you think, boss?"

Gibbs shrugged, placing the portrait into a plastic bag and handing it to McGee. Speculation wasn't his strong point; he'd let DiNozzo handle that area.

"I would estimate that this man has been dead for about ten hours now, though the moisture could have skewed that number a bit. I'll know more when we get him back to autopsy." He held up a hand, cutting Gibbs off before he could speak. "And I'll get you cause of death then too, Jethro." Gibbs smirked and turned away.

"So, what do you think, Tony? Mob hit, terrorist plot?" McGee asked. The crime scene was just finishing getting cleaned up and put away, while Palmer and Ducky loaded the body into the van.

"I don't know; kinda sloppy for a mob hit. I mean, there were prints and everything." He muttered, rechecking his material before heading out. "And the marine was PFC, so not a huge target for a terrorist. What do you think, Ziva-"

"Shh!"

Tony and Tim both turned sharply at their coworker's abrupt hush. Ziva held one of her hands up for silence, the other resting on her gun. She quietly made eye contact with them, then pointed down the road littered with storage containers.

Tony's eyes went wide, and he quickly turned. "Boss, I think you should see this."

Gibbs glanced up, and then immediately reached for his gun. The man walking down the street was of average height with short brown hair, identical to the picture the dead marine had carried.

"Just wait," Gibbs breathed, nodding towards Tony and Tim to draw their weapons. The man didn't seem to notice the agents; his eyes were on the ground in front of him as he listened to whatever was going through his ear buds.

When he was one hundred feet away, Tony stepped forward. "Okay pal, stop walking and keep your hands where we can see them."

The man froze, jerking his head and looking at the agents. His gaze was startled, but calculating. Gibbs felt his gut flinch as the man took a fraction of a second to assess all of them. Something was wrong.

The pause lasted a full two seconds before the man turned and ran, ducking his head and trying to put any debris he could between himself and the guns. Tony and Ziva immediately gave chase as McGee and Gibbs ran back to the car and peeled out, going around the long way to cut him off.

Ziva's heart pounded as she tried to keep up with the running figure in front of her. It was hard to catch a glimpse as he dodged in between storage containers and boxes, and she growled in frustration; even if she were allowed to use her gun, it would take a large amount of luck just to hit him. She nodded at Tony, who sprinted around a large container in the opposite direction of their target. She rounded the corner and pulled her gun up. "Freeze!"

The man ignored her, ducking behind another corner. She holstered her weapon and followed. Tony rounded the opposite corner at the same time, right in front of the stranger.

There was no time for either agent to react; the man struck Tony in the jaw, disorienting him, before landing several hard blows to his ribs and midsection. He finished by knocking the agent into the side of the metal container, effectively knocking him out.

Ziva watched the entire thing happen in slow motion as she sprinted towards the fight. Her mind churned, trying to understand how Tony had been taken down so easily. She reached the man just as Tony fell and immediately attacked him.

The stranger twisted in time to see her, blocking each attack as she threw it. She attacked faster, drawing her knife mid-swing and slicing towards his throat. He easily stopped it, dodged another fist, and then twisted her arm quickly. The blade sliced across her thigh, causing a gasp of pain. A knee to her stomach and a swift elbow to the back of her neck was enough to subdue the ex Mossod agent.

The stranger let out a breath, leaning on the storage container for support.

"Okay, now freeze." Tony's voice croaked out. He had pulled his gun, still lying on his back. The man looked at him, once again calculating his chances.

"Go ahead; I'm waiting for an excuse." Gibbs snarled, coming out from around another corner with McGee. The stranger looked at all the agents again as Ziva slowly stood up, looking murderous. Slowly he raised his hands and dropped to his knees.

"Permission to kill him, Gibbs?" Ziva asked, still glaring at the man. Gibbs curtly shook his head.

"Get him back to base, throw him into interrogation. At least two guns on him at all times. If he twitches, shoot him."


	2. Wait

He sat in the small room, eyes staring down unfocused, and allowed his mind into nothingness. He could hear the sounds of people moving around outside the door, as well as voices coming from down the hall. The one way mirror in front of him was soundproof, and he was fairly sure that there were at least two people in there watching him.

NCIS, some sort of military police. Two guards were outside the door, two more on either end of the hall. They would contact the CIA soon; he wanted to be gone by the time that happened.

But there was nothing he could do at the moment. He just had to wait.


	3. Who Is Jason Bourne?

"I don't like it."

Director Leon Vance stood facing the man through the one-way glass, chewing on a toothpick. He, Gibbs and McGee were standing in the observation room as they deliberated what to do next.

"The guy's picture is on a dead marine. He shows up and completely thrashes DiNozzo and David. Then he sits in interrogation, without moving, for twenty minutes." He took a moment to pause in his assessment. "DiNozzo is a capable agent, even if he isn't a trained killer. And someone who is able to not only fight on par, but easily beat Ziva? I want to know who this man is."

"I'm having my computer scan his fingerprints against known criminals and terrorists now, Director," McGee stated, stepping forward slightly. "So far we've got nothing there. He had a cell phone and an audio recorder on him when we picked him up. No weapons, no identification."

"So what do we have, McGee?" asked Gibbs, turning to face his agent. Tim shifted.

"Not much of anything, boss." At Gibb's stare, he quickly cleared his throat. "But I'll go find a way to change that very quickly," he corrected and walked from the room.

Vance stared at the man a little while longer before facing Gibbs. "Well?"

The older man turned and faced him. "Well what, Leon?"

The director raised an eyebrow. "What is that famous gut telling you?"

Gibbs shrugged, turning to walk out the door. "I don't know, yet."

* * *

McGee growled in frustration as he once again widened the search. Tony glanced over, raising an eyebrow. "Not having any luck, McGenius?" he asked, wincing as he moved his jaw.

McGee sighed, leaning back. "I've checked on all the databases I can find, and just started the most general search I could. So far it's nothing, and this is going to take forever."

Tony turned, interest peaking a bit. "Civilian?"

"Drivers licenses, motorcycle licenses, blood donors, nothing. It's like this guy doesn't even exist. Even the European databases don't show anything."

"Perhaps it would be better if that were true," grumbled Ziva as she made her way into the bullpen and sat at her desk. Tony looked at her and smiled.

"Ah, you aren't jealous that someone beat you in a fight, now are you, Zee-vah?" he taunted lightly, making sure he was far enough away to avoid being struck with anything larger than a paperclip.

"No, I am not jealous, Tony. His abilities simply took me by surprise, and I made the mistake of underestimating him," she snapped, smirking at him. Her voice dropped a bit as she continued. "Besides, I saw him knock you out and I became… distracted."

"Distracted? Were you worried about me, Ziva?"

"No, I was wondering how you could be so stupid as to lose so easily against a target," she replied quickly, smiling at him. Tony smirked in response, going back to his report as McGee chuckled quietly.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!"

Abby's voice shrieked across the bullpen, causing Tony to wince through his headache. He stood up just in time to be bear hugged by the woman as she hurried into the room from forensics.

"Tony! Ziva! Are you guys alright? Oh my word Palmer said that you chased someone and they attacked you, and that Tony was knocked out and they beat Ziva, so of course I didn't believe him because you're Ziva, and well, nobody does that, but he said it was true and then Ducky said he just got done treating you so I had to come up and check…"

"Abby! Abby, easy, it's alright," grunted Tony, trying to breathe through the hug. "Watch the cracked ribs."

Abby immediately jumped back, and started apologizing even as Tony held up his hands, reassuring her that yes, he was alright, and no she didn't hurt him further.

"So, like, what happened? I mean, how does this guy work?" she finally asked, looking towards McGee.

"We don't know yet, Abbs. I haven't matched his fingerprints to anything in history so far," he grumbled the last part, glaring at his computer again.

"Double check your history, McGee," Gibbs stated as he came around the corner. He glanced at his forensic scientist. "What are you doin' up here, Abbs?"

"Well I had to make sure you guys were okay. I mean, it's not every day that someone beats Ziva in a fight."

"Will everyone _please_ stop reminding me of that!" exclaimed Ziva, though with more resignation than conviction. "It will be the straw that broke the horse's back."

"Camel," replied Tony.

"Whatever."

"Got anything yet, McGee?" Gibbs asked as he sat in his chair.

Tim sighed. "Nothing. I don't know why, boss, but he isn't coming up anywhere."

"Did you try CIA database?" asked Abby suddenly, causing everyone to stare at her. McGee glanced at his computer.

"Actually… no, not yet," he said slowly, typing a series of commands before hitting "enter". The computer hummed for a few seconds before signaling a match.

"Got it, boss."

"Pull it up."

The monitor lit up as the screen showed the fingerprints matching. Suddenly, a large blinking window appeared.

"We don't have clearance to get access to these files, boss," clarified McGee, nervously glancing at his coworkers. He knew what always happened next.

"Well, get the clearance, McGee."

Tim sighed; typing quickly he once again hacked into the CIA data files. His face scrunched a bit in confusion, and he typed a few more sequences. Nothing happened.

"Well, McGee?" asked Gibbs expectantly.

"I'm not sure, boss. It usually isn't this hard; whatever this is, it's really high up there. Most of CIA isn't allowed access to the files… There."

An image of the man appeared on the screen, along with some basic information on him.

"Jason Bourne, birthdate listed as August 21, 1969," Ziva read off the basic information.

"No criminal record. Actually, no record at all, boss. It's like this guy's life started in the CIA," commented McGee, searching through the information on him. "Wait, here's something: Treadstone." McGee quieted as he read the information. He looked up nervously. "Uh, boss, you aren't gonna like this."

"Spill it, McGee."

Tim took a deep breath. "Treadstone was a black ops operation, specifically designed for extremely low profile and undercover assassinations. Apparently, he was one of the first ones in the program."

"Well, that would explain a few things," grunted Tony, massaging his jaw.

Before McGee could continue, the screen went blank. Gibbs looked at him expectantly as Tim frantically typed away on the keyboard. "The files are corrupting, I can't stop it," he mumbled, squinting at the screen as he tried harder. After a few more moments, he sat back, defeated. "It's gone. Someone found out we were looking at it and completely cut it off. I'm not even sure I could get back in again."

Ziva and Tony shared a glance as Gibbs grabbed his coat. "Nobody opens the door for any reason, understood? McGee, keep searching for any information on him. Ziva, contact all your friends in Interpol, Israel, hell, anywhere."

"You got it, boss," replied McGee as Ziva nodded.

Tony glanced around. "What about me, boss?"

Gibbs turned to give him an expecting look. "Are you on my six, DiNozzo?"

Tony jumped up. "Always, boss," he replied quickly, grabbing his coat and pack and running to catch his boss.


	4. Escape

It had been over an hour.

He flexed his jaw, trying to keep his muscles loose. Something should have happened by now. An interrogation, an armed escort, something. They didn't behave like others had before. That meant that the plan had to change. He couldn't just wait for something to happen; he would have to initiate the action.

Standing, he pulled the chair over until it was right underneath the camera in the room. Standing on it, he yanked the chord, then walked over to the one-way mirror. He cupped his hands around his eyes, shielding the outside light. No mirror is truly one way; it's just the contrast of the light in one room and the darkness in the other. It didn't do much, but he could tell that the room was empty.

Time was short now; the downed camera was likely being monitored, and someone would check on him quickly. He picked up the closest chair and flipped it over, grasping the leg just above the foot. The glass in the interrogation room was most likely tempered; its weakest points were at the corners. Taking the sharpest point of the foot, he rammed it as hard as he could against the corner of the glass.

Nothing. He rammed it again. Nothing. It wasn't until the third time that the entire glass wall shattered, exposing the dark room. He immediately jumped over the remaining wall and positioned himself behind the door. It wouldn't be long now.

Ten seconds later, the door opened. The tip of an assault rifle poked through, just beside him. If the man turned left, he would be seen. It all depended on which way the man turned.

He turned right.

Immediately Bourne grabbed the barrel of the gun, pulling the agent forward and in front of him to block the view of the rest. A well placed knee doubled the man over, and Bourne shoved him backwards into the others. A few quick punches were thrown into the mass of bodies, and shots fired in the confusion. Glancing down, Jason grabbed a hand gun from one of the confused agents. Throwing a quick glance down the opposite hallway, he ran around the corner, and then towards the elevator he arrived from. Shouts began to escalate as he sprinted to the door and pushed the button. Movement to his left caught his attention, and he noted two of the agents who had originally found him. The woman instantly grabbed for her sidearm as the other stood and frantically searched for his.

Bourne raised his own, firing enough shots to get them to duck, and keep the guards from around the corner from sticking their head out. Cursing, he saw the sign for the stairs a few feet away and, deciding the elevator was too dangerous, ran through the door. He ran down a floor, then stopped. Voices were coming from below; he was being cut off. Glancing to his right, he quickly ran through the nearest door.

The first thing to hit him was the loud music. Even from where he stood, it seemed nearly deafening. The smell of an energy drink saturated the air as well. Sneaking forward, he peeked into the open door. There were a good amount of computers and screens, as well as several machines, though he had no idea what they were for. Nobody appeared inside, so he quickly made his way in. The offending music player was quickly found, and just as quickly muted. As his ears began to stop ringing, Bourne became acutely aware of someone walking down the hall towards the door. Frantically he looked around for somewhere to hide, but there was no time. He raised his gun.

"Gibbs! I know you don't always like my music, but you can't just turn it off! I mean, you can, but that really isn't nice. Not that you aren't nice, you're awesome, even if you forget to bring my Caf-Pow, which you never forget so I guess that doesn't matter much, and…"

The source of the energetic voice rounded the corner and stopped short. She was dressed in all black, a collar, and pig tails, with various piercings and dark makeup. Bourne tilted his head a bit; she didn't look or sound like a government employee. But she had called for Gibbs, which was what the white-haired leader had been referred to by the others. She obviously knew them.

The woman, for her part, didn't immediately scream. She stared at the gun like a deer in headlights, mouth slightly open. Jason motioned her inside with the barrel.

"Don't scream."


	5. Tell the CIA

"Gibbs, so good to see you again."

DiNozzo's jaw tightened when he heard the voice, and he stood a little straighter. Gibbs smirked, and then turned towards the CIA agent.

"Kort," he replied, nodding slightly. Tony glared at the man, hand resting on his gun. Kort smiled.

"Come now, DiNozzo. You don't mean to tell me you still haven't forgiven me for our little encounter," he said smoothly.

"No, not really," Tony replied, frowning a bit deeper at the smug question.

"I need a favor," Gibbs interrupted before any more arguing could ensue.

"You already owe me several, Agent Gibbs," the CIA agent replied. Gibbs smirked.

"I seem to remember that we were even. And this won't require you to do any work. Just tell me if you know anything about a man named Jason Bourne."

Kort's smile instantly faded, and his eyes grew wide. "Why do you want to know?"

Gibbs frowned at the sudden change of attitude. Kort was normally a very controlled man; why the sudden change in emotion?

"I want to know because I have him in custody at NCIS headquarters. Nobody besides CIA seems to know who he is."

"Gibbs, you need to officially inform the CIA about this immediately. This is a matter of national security."

Tony scoffed. "What isn't these days?"

Kort glared at the younger man. "This is. And no, before you say it, I'm not trying to infringe on your investigation. Jason Bourne is a dangerous man."

Gibbs stepped forward, interested. "How dangerous?"

"Dangerous enough to have evaded any assets sent after him for years now, as well as various countries full police power. I can tell you honestly that I don't know very much about him myself; that information is far above my pay grade." Kort said.

"Our intel says that he used to be a CIA operative. Something called 'Treadstone'. Ring any bells?" Gibbs asked.

"Treadstone was a failed recon plan that was terminated years ago, that is all I know. Your information on him already exceeds mine. I can say that he is seen as the single greatest threat to the CIA right now. I implore you, Agent Gibbs, to tell the CIA about this."

"We'll consider it," replied Tony as Gibbs' phone began to ring. Picking up, quickly answered, "Gibbs."

A few seconds later he slammed the phone shut. "DiNozzo, get to the car. Now!" he barked, already walking past the younger agent.

"Why boss? What's wrong?" Tony asked, hurrying to keep up.

"Bourne escaped the interrogation room. He disappeared."

Kort watched the two agents climb into the car and peel out of the parking space. _Jason Bourne… Gibbs, you really do know how to pick them, don't you?_

* * *

McGee typed furiously on his keyboard, trying in vain to find to find more information about Bourne in the CIA database. Frustrated, he exited out, glaring at the screen. The Google icon caught his eye, and he paused. _Couldn't hurt,_ he mused, opening the link and typing in the name. About a second later, a number of hits showed up. At the top of the list was a news report from London about a journalist named Simon Ross. Interested, McGee opened it and began to read. His eyes grew huge.

"McGee! I have something!" called Ziva as she rounded the corner.

"Yeah, so do I," he gravely agreed, putting the information he found up on the screen.

"Apparently, a journalist was killed by this guy in London after doing an ongoing expose on him. The guy had information on him from Munich, India, Germany, and a list of other places. This man has been all over the map."

"That is what my contacts have given me," agreed Ziva, watching the screen as the information popped up. "Apparently several countries are not very happy that an American was able to come in, escape all attempts of capture, and then escape. His targets have also included Nykwanna Wombosi, an exiled Nigerian dictator who was constantly paranoid that the United States was attempting to assassinate him, as well as several unknown civilians."

"Unknown?"

"No background, no history, nothing, much like Bourne. If it were up to me to guess, I would suspect that they too were operatives. Though why he killed them is unclear," Ziva finished as McGee closed the pages.

"Um, Ziva, I know you don't like talking about it," he mumbled, as his coworker looked at him, "but what happened during that fight? I mean, we've never seen you lose before."

The ex-mossod agent sighed, closing her eyes. "I honestly do not know. I was angry, and possibly blinded by that, but he was still simply better than me. Looking into his eyes was looking into the eyes of a killer: cold and calculating."

Tim whistled lowly. "Scary."

Alarms began to beep on McGee's computer, causing him and Ziva to jump. Glancing down, he began to frantically type at the keyboard.

"What is the matter?" asked Ziva, coming around his desk.

"Bourne just disabled the camera in the interrogation room," he muttered. "Ziva, tell the guards not to open the door."

The sound of shouts and gunfire erupted from the hallway, causing Ziva to immediately go for her gun. A few moments later, Bourne emerged, running towards the elevator. McGee ducked as soon as the firing started, trusting Ziva's aim much more than his own.

"McGee! He's going down the stairs!"

"You mean you didn't get him?" he asked, still a bit dazed.

"Of course I didn't get him," Ziva snapped. "And neither will you if you do not put this building into immediate lockdown."

"Right," Tim answered, shaking away the rest of the fog and typing once again on his computer. It wasn't long before the entire base went into lockdown.

Glancing up, he saw Ziva heading for the stairs. "Woah, where are you going?"

"After him," she replied curtly.

"What about Gibbs? Shouldn't we give him a call?"

"Be my guest," was all she said before disappearing through the door.

"Great," he muttered, pulling out his phone. It rang twice before he heard his bosses' voice.

"Gibbs, it's McGee. We've got… a bit of a problem", he muttered.

It was going to be a longer day than he thought.


	6. Hostages Part 1

The girl walked inside the room, pausing a few feet from the doors. Jason kept the gun up, glancing around. There was a window behind him, but no other obvious escape routes. If she could talk, she would give him up. He was trapped.

"What is this room used for?" he asked. She seemed dazed, only staring at him for a few moments. He raised the gun a bit higher, taking a step towards her. "What is it used for?"

"I-it's a forensics lab," she said quickly, her voice quiet. Jason hated to scare her; she obviously wasn't someone trained to kill, or even fight. Lowering the gun, nodded towards the door.

"Is there any way to lock those doors?" he asked. Her eyes darted to a desk in the room beside them, and then back towards him.

"No," she said quickly. She was lying, Jason knew, and motioned for her to go into the second room. Keeping an eye on her, he began to search the desk until he found a remote. It only took a few seconds for him to find the right button and lock the door.

Now he had to wait. There was no telling how the people here would react to a hostage situation; he may have just made everything easier for himself or a hell of a lot harder. Either way, there was nothing more he could do at the moment.

"Who are you?"

The question took him by surprise, and he glanced quickly up at the woman. She was still scared, but she stood straight, trying her best to glare at him. He offered no response, opting instead just to look at her.

"Who are you? Why are you taking me hostage in here?" she asked, irritation growing in her voice. When he didn't respond, she glared a bit deeper.

"Gibbs is gonna kill you, ya know. He's a sniper, and he'll take you out before you even know what hit you," she said, growing bolder at his passive stance. She began to pace, and her arms moved as she talked. "And if he doesn't, then Ziva will. She'll kick your butt now that she's ready for you. I mean, there is no one better trained than Mossod, so you don't have a chance, buddy. And Tony too. I mean, he isn't Mossod, but he is still a good shot, and he is very protective. And so is McGee, and they're all gonna make sure you die if you hurt me," she finished, glaring at him from a few feet away.

Jason looked at her, watching calmly as she steamed in anger. "I'm not gonna hurt you," he said.

"Oh yeah? Well you sure have a funny way of showing it!" she snapped, crossing her arms and stalking to the other end of the room. Jason followed.

"You work here?"

She turned, surprised at his question. He waited as she glanced around and, rather than answering him, sat down with her arms crossed. No matter, she had already given him some information. A sniper and a member of Mossod. Not quite the group he was wanting to tangle with.

A noise from the back of the room caused him to turn, gun raised.

"Abby, I have a few things I would like you to test. Mister Palmer said that your door was locked, so naturally I wanted to make sure nothing was wrong… oh dear," the voice trailed off as an older man came from around the corner.

Bourne looked between the two people, and then pointed the gun at the girl addressed as Abby. "How did he get in?" he asked, his voice strained a bit from the adrenaline. She didn't answer, though the boldness was gone from her stance. Jason walked closer to her, the gun merely a foot from her head. "How did he get in here?" he shouted. Abby flinched, squeezing her eyes shut and turning away from the weapon.

"There is a back way into her lab through the evidence garage," the old man quickly said, moving forward until Jason held up his hand. "And, as I am guessing your next question is, yes, it can be locked from the inside."

Jason searched the man's face, but found nothing to make him think the man was lying. Positioning himself on the other side of Abby, he motioned both of them forward with his gun.

They walked to the back of the lab and, upon finding the door, Bourne quickly locked and secured it. He then motioned both people back into the main room.

As they sat, Bourne took a deep breath.

What had he gotten himself into?


	7. Hostages Part 2

Gibbs rolled through the bullpen with the energy of a thunderstorm, and twice the fury.

"Tell me we have something, McGee."

The younger agent swallowed a lump in his throat. "The building is in lockdown, and we've got agents checking floor by floor. So far, nothing. But we'll get him," he added, noting Gibb's withering glare.

"Where's Ziva?" the team leader demanded.

"She, uh, went to look herself, boss."

"She _what?_"

"I've got her, boss," Tony said, jumping into the conversation. Quickly he ditched his field backpack and headed towards the stairs, pulling out his phone.

"We've got the parking garage and evidence storage cleared, as well as this floor," continued McGee. "Agents are in autopsy now, and they haven't reported anything."

"Make sure they observe and report only. I don't want anybody trying to take this guy on," Gibbs answered, grabbing his gun and heading for the stairs. His phone rang before he could reach them.

"Boss, we have a problem."

"What is it, Tony?" Gibbs asked, a bit anxious.

"Ziva and I are at Abby's lab. The doors are locked, and Palmer said that Ducky was on his way up to give her evidence. That was ten minutes ago; he still hasn't returned."

Gibb's blood went cold.

* * *

Abby glared for all her worth at the man sitting in front of her. Ducky couldn't blame her; the poor girl was frightened half to death. It wasn't his first hostage, and he seriously doubted it would be his last, working with Gibbs. These things tended to happen.

The hostage-taker in question rubbed his head, squeezing his eyes as he did so. Ducky frowned; he didn't have the look of someone in control. If anything, he looked confused, lost.

"You appear as though you could use a nap," commented Ducky, albeit a bit sarcastically. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Abby smirk. That alone was worth whatever backlash the comment may create.

Surprisingly, the man hardly reacted. He looked at Ducky for a moment, then looked down again, shaking his head. "No," he said simply.

The coroner waited a few moments before speaking again. "I do hope you realize, son, that you are in an impossible position." At the man's blank look, he continued. "You've taken two hostages in a military base. If my guess is correct, you will be most lucky to leave here alive." The old man's words were grave, though unthreatening.

The stranger continued to look at him, and it struck Ducky that he must be thinking. _Such actions are similar to those of someone whose mind has been compromised. I wonder… _

Before he could continue his line of thought, there was a pounding on the door.

* * *

"Abby! Abby, if you are in there, open up!"

"Gibbs!" the forensic scientist shouted, jumping out of her chair. The gunman jumped as well, pointing his weapon at the girl. The lost and confused look on his face was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating look.

Abby froze, conflicted between trying to talk to her friend and obeying the man with the gun.

"Abby, unlock the door," Gibbs called. Jason immediately shook his head, motioning for the girl to sit down. Abby did as he said, glaring daggers again.

* * *

Gibbs waited for a response once more, but was met with only silence. _She called out the first time, _he thought bitterly. It wasn't that his mind was reacting slow; he simply needed to repeat the event in order to calm himself. As it stood, he was murderous.

"Are you in charge?"

The voice came from directly on the other side of the door. Beside him, Tony and Ziva immediately raised their weapons, pointing them at the source of the voice.

"Are you Jason Bourne? Where's Abby?" Gibbs demanded, ignoring the question.

"She's safe. What do you want with me?"

Gibbs gave a huff. "You've kidnapped two of my employees, and you're wondering what I want?"

There was silence for a few moments again, then:

"Why did you come after me? Are you Blackbriar?"

_Blackbriar? What the hell is that? _"We wanted to talk to you because we found a picture of you in a dead marine's pocket."

* * *

Ducky watched Bourne's face at the accusation. As he suspected, the confusion returned, his eyes dancing around, trying, and failing, to recall the occurrence. _He either doesn't remember, or didn't commit that crime._

Ducky stood, taking a few steps towards the man. Jason raised his gun, glaring at the coroner, but Ducky ignored him.

"Jethro, it's me."

"Ducky? What the hell is going on?"

Ducky gave a sigh, giving his own glare to the man with the gun. For his part, Jason hadn't shot him yet, so that was good.

"I think there may have been a misunderstanding of sorts."

* * *

Gibbs frowned at the door. "What kind of misunderstanding ends with you being kidnapped, Duck?" he asked. The conversation was grinding on him, but there was nothing else that could be done at the moment. The rest of the agents had surrounded all exits to the room, including the windows. Now they just had to wait.

"I'm not sure, Jethro. And pardon my tone, but having a gun pointed at my head puts me in a most foul mood," the old man snapped. Gibbs hid a small smile; Ducky wasn't known to be particularly patient when held hostage.

"What do you suggest?"

* * *

"I suggest a mediation of sorts. You be allowed to enter, sans the gun you are holding, and we continue to talk in here," Ducky finished, looking at Bourne. The man hadn't said a word during their exchange, only holding the gun. He nodded briskly, agreeing to the terms. _Well, that's one party to agree. Now to convince the other._

"Why do I not like the sound of that, Ducky?" he heard Gibbs growl from outside. Ducky let out a breath; it was always difficult trying to take the diplomatic approach with his boss.

"I can't see that we have any other options. Had this man wanted to harm us, he would have done so already. Please, just consider my proposal."

* * *

Gibbs was quiet for a few moments, trying to think. On the one hand, he hated going in unarmed when a terrorist was present. On the other, he was concerned for Abby, and if this plan would help her…

"One condition. Ziva comes in with me."

There was silence, and out of the corners of his eyes he saw Ziva and Tony react slightly; one with confusion, the other with irritation, before Jason answered.

"She can come. Tell her to take the gun from her hip, her boot, and the knives she has hidden in her bra and boot sole out before hand."

Tony and Gibbs turned to look at Ziva, who had a look of surprise on her face. Slowly, she removed the said weapons. Tony smirked as she reached into her shirt to retrieve the knife; he was immediately head-slapped by Gibbs.

"Alright, done. Unlock the door and let us in," Gibbs finally answered, nodding at the agents with them to get out of sight. They backed away and Tony, reluctantly, followed.

The doors opened, and they were greeted with a gun pointed straight at them.

"Inside. Now."


	8. The Truth

Bourne stood to the side, out of reach, as the agents stepped into the room. With a quick glance to make sure nobody else was close, he closed the doors and activated the lockdown. His mind constantly ran through what he knew so far. _Four hostages. Somewhere on a military base. Organization called NCIS; intelligence? Recon? Mossad officer, marine sniper. Affiliation with Blackbriar? Dead marine, someone he killed? An asset?_

"Why did you chase me?" he opened, motioning towards the girl they had called Ziva. She looked at her boss before answering.

"Your picture was on a dead marine," she repeated what Gibbs had already said. "When we confronted you, you ran."

Jason paused, racking his brain once again. "The body. That's where you saw me?"

"Yes."

_Liar._

Jason growled, taking a step towards Ziva. "Stop lying to me. Tell me why you are after me!"

"I just did!" she snapped, irritation obviously growing.

"I've never been here before. I didn't kill any marine here. Tell me the truth!" he demanded.

* * *

Ducky watched with nervousness as the questioning continued. He was sure by now that this man had no recollection of the murder; it was very possible he didn't commit it. When Bourne stepped forward, the coroner felt his heart lurch a bit. _He thinks we are hiding something from him. He thinks we are someone else; someone out to get him. Paranoia? Perhaps._

"Tell me the truth!"

"We are," answered Gibbs gruffly, putting a hand on Ziva's shoulder. The younger agent calmed a bit, glaring at Bourne. "Abby," Gibbs continued, "pull up the pictures we sent you."

Slowly, Abby did as she was asked. The dead man's body was displayed on the large screen. Jason stared at it, eyes flicking over the image, before confirming Ducky's suspicion.

"I've never seen that man before."

* * *

_Medium build. Brown hair. About 5'8". Square jaw, with a scar running under the jaw bone on the right side. _Jason searched his mind for any recollection, finding none.

"I've never seen that man before."

"Then how did he have your picture?" Gibbs asked.

"I don't know."

"Jethro, if I may," the old man spoke up; Ducky, he'd been called. _Ducky?_ The man made his way forward. Jason let him get about 3 feet away, before raising the gun a bit to stop him.

"You are Jason Bourne, yes?" At his nod, the man continued. "I see. An acquaintance of mine told me about you; apparently you were the topic of a popular columnist's recent expose." Another nod.

"Then it is true, that you have lost your memory in the past?"

"Yes," Jason answered softly.

"Would it at all be possible that the same occurrence happened here?" Ducky questioned.

"No," Jason answered quickly. "I know where I've been for the last couple years. I've never been here."

* * *

"If you are innocent, then why did you run?" Gibbs asked, cutting in. Abby watched as Jason's face hardened a bit, turning towards him.

"You had guns on me. I thought you were with the CIA."

_The CIA? What is he running from the CIA for?_

Gibbs asked the question on her mind. Jason shook his head. "They're trying to kill me."

"Jethro, according to my acquaintance, Jason Bourne here was a CIA operative. However, when he lost his memory, he became a liability. They've tried to tie off loose ends ever since," Ducky filled in. Jason nodded in agreement. The gun was still in his hand, but he looked much more at ease with the group.

Gibbs was confused. On the one hand, this man was still their prime suspect; hell, this man was still technically holding them hostage. On the other hand, Ducky seemed to believe he was innocent. Even his gut was telling him that Bourne wasn't the bad guy.

The room was quiet for a moment, before Abby spoke up. "So, what now?" Her mood had changed considerably, though she still scowled at Bourne.

"Maybe I could help."

* * *

Jason jumped, gun going up and pointing towards the far end of the table where the voice came from. A set of speakers greeted his vision.

"Tony, what the hell are you doing?" Gibbs demanded.

"Oh, hey boss. I had McProbie send a message to Abby asking her to call me so I could listen in.," the speakers said. Jason recognized the voice of the man who had chased him down. Glancing over, he saw Abby sitting with a smug smile on her face.

"Anyway, boss, I'm guessing you don't want anyone to tell the CIA about this. At least until we get everything cleared up, right?"

"Get to the point, DiNozzo," Gibbs snapped.

"I think I may have an idea," the voice on the speakers said. Jason could almost hear a smile.


End file.
